Salt in the Wound
by turtlejusticeandapplesauce
Summary: Felicity mourned him. Oliver mourned her. When their lives are brought together again can they stop the threat? Can they find the love they once had? Or is it all too much? Army AU
1. Chapter 1

I took a deep breath and opened my eyes. The heat of the Iraqi desert had been beaming down all day. The sweat had been rolling down into my eyes all day, as well. I hate the heat. I had been more than relieved when I heard that my previous deployment had ended ahead of schedule. The only reason I signed up for a second tour in the fiery hell of Iraq was my fiancé, Oliver. He wanted to stay for another tour for some reason that was lost to me. I did not understand it, but I love him, so I she signed up too. This day was just as the others in the two weeks we'd been here.

"Keep your eyes open, soldiers!" John Diggle, my commanding officer called over the roar of the Humvee. Between Digg's voice and the noise of the vehicle they were in, I felt as if all of it would shatter my eardrums. I glanced up towards the roof of the Humvee, instinctually worrying about Oliver who was working the .50 cal. on top of the Humvee. I turned my attention back to my post. I'm the lookout for this mission; the job was to find a secure a strip of land large enough for one of the birds to land and bring aid to civilians that were unable to flee from the insurgents in Mosul. I pulled out my night vision goggles and scanned the horizon for any movements. My heart dropped to her knees when I saw there were people lying in wait just up the road.  
"Enemy bodies ahead." I called out to the my unit.  
"How far away?" John Diggle, their commanding officer, inquired.  
"1.7 clicks northwest, sir." I replied.  
"What are their packing?"  
"Unknown. They have transport, anything could be in that vehicle. Abort mission?"  
"If we do that thousands of people will starve to death. How many are there?"  
"I'm counting at least eight, sir, but I can't see into the car very well." I explained, hoping that he would turn back. It's not that I doesn't want to fight or that I think we can't handle ourselves, but I just can't shake the feeling that this was not something we were all going to walk away from.  
"The four of us against eight. We've made it through worse," Diggle joked with a laugh, "Isn't that right, Rene?!"

"Damn right." He replied with a quiet laugh.  
"Oliver!" Diggle exclaimed.  
"Yeah, boss!" I couldn't help but smile at the sound of my fiancés voice. His voice is unlike any I'd ever heard before. Somehow when he talked I felt at home, safe; even when what I felt was certain death lay ahead of us.

"Do you see those pricks ahead of us!"  
"Please tell me I get to shoot 'em!" I rolled her eyes. Boys and their guns. Nearly every mission we'd been on we'd heard Oliver complain because he never got to shoot the .50 Cal.  
"On my cue, light 'em up!"  
"Yes, sir!" Oliver replied the joy he felt was pouring off every word.  
"Felicity, do one last check to see if you can see any more now. There is no way they don't see us coming at this point maybe they'll show their hand a bit." Rene stated from his place behind the wheel.  
"Good idea." Diggle commended from behind us.  
"On it." I replied while once again lifting the goggles to my eyes. After a moment of adjustment, the sight I saw made me freeze with terror. There standing on the roof of the car just ahead of us stood a man; on his shoulder was a grenade launcher aimed at us.  
"Oh, shit."  
"What is it?" Diggle asked.  
"Now, Oliver! Fire now!" I screamed.


	2. Chapter 2

The sound of screams jolted me awake. The screams were not real, of course. They were a memory. A memory that will not let me rest. No matter how much time has passed by, it would always find its way to the front of my mind. I reached up to brush whatever it was tickling my forehead away. The feeling of wetness startled me a little. Sweat. Why am I sweating? I rolled over to see Ray, my boyfriend, fast asleep. That must be why I am sweating. I am not used to having someone else in the bed with me and Ray gives off heat like a furnace. He rarely sleeps over; usually only when it doesn't make sense for him to go back to his place. Tonight was one of those nights. Thanks to all the rain we got early in the day and the cold front that was moving in from the north the roads were going to be hell to travel. I turned back to check the time. I don't know why, it is not like going back to sleep is even a possibility. I had to squint my eyes to read the small numbers that were doing their best to illuminate the dark room, 4:24 am. I tried to move as gently as I could, as not to wake Ray. Just because I couldn't sleep doesn't mean he shouldn't. I slipped on my TOMs™, which doubled as slippers, and threw a cardigan on before walking out of the room and started towards the kitchen. I grabbed a bottle of raspberry tea from the fridge and made my way towards the living room. On these mornings, I took advantage of the extra time to do some reading; and it helped to get the images of my nightmares out of my mind.

The hours went fast once I entered the world of Westeros, but it was time to come back to reality. I heard Ray's footsteps as he walked down the hall.

"Hey, you. Where'd you get to?" he asked in his morning voice that was much deeper than how he normally talked.

"I had a bad dream and couldn't go back to sleep. So, I just came in here to read for a while." I explained.

"Oh, do you want to talk about it?" He asked, running his hand through his messy bed head that somehow made him look like a little boy.

"No, I'm fine now." I said with a simple smile. He accepted it with a smile of his own before heading into the kitchen. I believe that is why we have lasted almost a year, Ray and me. He never presses for more than I am willing to give; he never asks why. That is something I need.

I glanced to the clock on the side table next to the couch; it now read 7:30 am.

I guess I should be getting ready for work. Ugh, work. I hate my job with a passion. It is the best I could do with my credentials. I didn't work long before I went into the military and despite what you may think it's hard for soldiers to find work after they come home. I stood up and began my morning routine –make the bed, put on my uniform, brush my hair and put it up in a ponytail, brush my teeth, grab my keys and out the door by 8:00. It's not all the different from my morning routine during my days in the Marines. The only real difference is that my uniform now is a peach colored dress and an apron.

I pulled into my parking spot behind The Rose Café, an old family friend runs the place so when she heard I was having a rough time finding a job since I returned home from Iraq, and she called me up. I hate it, but money is money. I locked my car and started towards the back door of the cafe.

The day went by as most of them do these days; slowly. I spend most of my time playing the role everyone around me needs to see. The well put together ex-marine who lost the love of her life but is okay now. That's not even remotely true but no one notices. They need to believe I'm okay and I need them to believe I'm okay, everyone wins; right?

I pulled out my keys and unlocked the front door to my house. My house is my fortress. It's my constant. This is the only place that doesn't want me to be someone I'm not. It simply allows me to be. After today, I need to be alone. I don't understand why but some days the 'acting' leaves me exhausted; most days I can manage it just fine.

"Felicity? Is that you?" Ray called from the kitchen.

I let out a sigh. Why is he here?

"Yeah." I replied. I'm not in the mood to deal with him or anyone for that matter. I walked to the kitchen slowly, preparing myself for more 'acting'.

"Hey, I know we didn't have plans tonight, but I thought we could have some dinner and watch a movie. Sound good?" He asked once I entered the room.

"Yeah, sounds good." I lied.

"I thought you'd say that. So, I ordered us some Chinese and I dug out my Blu-ray of Jarhead. I still can't believe you've never seen that movie. Everyone says it's the truest representation of the Marines and you were a freaking Marine, Felicity. You will love it."

"Cool, I'll go set it up." I did my best to sound excited about it. I fail understand why people think that soldiers, marines, or anyone in the military wants to relieve those days through movies and TV shows. Those forms of entertainment are for civilians who have no idea what that world is really like. They've never had to deal with the heat of Iraq, fire a gun at innocent people, shoot people, kill people and they've certainly never been blown up by a grenade launcher.

I heard nothing but a ringing. It was amazing I could hear at all, could I? Or is this to be the only sound I hear for the rest of my days. The sound of a high-pitched scream told put those fears to rest but brought a whole new set of fears with it.

I opened my eyes for the first time since closing them, when I can't recall. I saw nothing but darkness and smoke from where I lay. I began to move my muscles and joints waiting for the moment I willed something to move and it did nothing. When my report told me that there were only minor injuries I turned my head and all I saw was fire.

I quickly turned my head in the opposite direction and found the origin of the scream that relieved me of the fear of deafness. Diggle sat on his knees a few feet from me. His face from where I could see him was one of pure agony. Then I moved to go to his aid and saw the reason for the agony. The other half of his body was engulfed in flames. I stood there motionless, frozen in terror.

Diggle turned to see me standing there and his face changed. It was as if I watched the life drain out of him and then their eyes met. I saw nothing in them, nothing. I stifled her emotions, which ones I can't be sure, as he fell to the ground.

It was then I realized that I'd broke the only true order Diggle had ever given them, "When under attack where the odds are against you, play dead". I didn't obey.

"Oliver." I said to myself. Where's Oliver?

"Felicity." Ray beckoned so lowly it was almost a whisper.

"Yeah?" I answered.

"Everything okay?" He asked, accusation dripping from his every word.

Don't start asking questions now, please. I don't think I can 'act' my way out of it right now.

"Yeah, why wouldn't it be?" I defended while setting down my container of Chinese food.

Wait, when did the food get here? And when did I get some? I looked over to the TV and saw the movie well past the opening credits; glancing down to the Blu-ray player the minute counter said we were twenty minutes into the movie. That can't be right I just put it on.

"I'm not trying to pick a fight, honey. You just seem uneasy. Can't I just want to make sure you're okay? You are my girl after all."

Don't call me that. I'll only ever be his girl.

"I know. I'm sorry. I guess, I'm just more tired than I realized." I explained.

"Felicity, I don't think that's it." Ray challenged.

"I just told you it was."

"You tend to forget that I'm a lawyer. I've learned how to read people. I've been reading you for a while now, Felicity."

"Oh really, and what have you read?"

"You're struggling; with what I don't know. You're so closed off I can't even begin to figure it out."

"You're wrong." I scoffed before adjusting my position on the couch, adding a little space between us.

"Felicity, I care about you. I want to help but I can't if you want talk to me."

I know he's right. I just don't know if I'm there. Oliver was everything to me, everything. I told him everything. He was the one person I wanted to tell everything to. He would listen and offer advice where he had it and when he didn't he would just let me speak. With him there was never any judgement or pity. I know it's insane, but I can't help feeling that if I talk to Ray right now, if I really talk to him, I'm somehow saying I've let go of Oliver. I should let go of Oliver. I mean he's gone, dead; lost to me forever. But if I let go of him then what else of him is left but memories. Memories aren't permanent. They can fade away or even be lost forever. If that happens then Oliver will be nothing more than a name on a rock. I can't let that happen, not to him. Minutes passed before anything else was said and when the silence was broken it was by Ray accidentally unmuting the TV.

The TV roared with gunfire and bombs exploding and people screaming, "What the hell are you doing?!"

"Felicity, what the hell are you doing?!" Rene screamed as he ran after her.

"Rene, I can't leave him!" I screamed to my best friend while doing my best to find Oliver through the thick smoke and darkness.

"You have to! We have to go or we're dead! Felicity, now. NOW!"

"Go! I can't leave until I find him!" I exclaimed before turning back to continue the search.

"Felicity!" Rene screamed, his voice pleading with me to heed his words.

"Either help me look for him or go!"

"Fine!"

We began sifting through the remains of what used to be their convoy, the darkness, and the sea of dead bodies that lay around them.

I checked every face of every dead body and begged the god I no longer believed in to spare me from adding Oliver to the ever-growing list of names of the dead I was compiling. Rene did the same on the other side and when the two of us came face to face again we shared the same expression, confusion.

"Where is he?" I asked to no one in particular.

"Where are they?" Rene asked.

I was so consumed by the need to find Oliver I never stopped to wonder why we weren't engulfed by a swarm of bullets the moment we revealed ourselves to be alive.

"I don't know. It's like they all just vanished."

"FELICITY!" Ray called.

"What?!"

I'm not sure when but at some point, during all this Ray went from sitting beside her to standing on the other side of the room. He was probably pacing, over the months I've spent with him I've come to recognize that as a sign of him being upset.

I looked up to meet his eyes and guilt washed over me, as it often does when I make that mistake. Ray is a good man. He deserves more than me. More than being used like this. It's not that I don't care for him because I do. It's just that I need the world around me to see that I'm okay. Part of that is moving on. It's been two years since I lost Oliver. To the world, that is more than enough time to mourn a fiancé. For me, there is no time limit. Oliver Queen has my whole heart. He has since the moment he said my name. It's buried six feet underground in an empty coffin. Ray deserves someone who has a heart to give him. That's not me. I should end it, let him go. But if I do, my act falls apart. If my act falls apart then so does my world. It's selfish, I know, but what other choice do I have?

Ray lets out a heavy sigh, one that I could tell he'd been holding onto for a while.

"I didn't realize how hard it would be to love a woman who's in love with a ghost." He admitted.

Shit. Did he just say love?

"Ray, I didn't reali- "He cut me off before I could finish.

"You don't have to say anything, Felicity. There's nothing to say. I know you don't love me." I stopped him there.

"Ray, I care about you. I'm just. . . a mess." I confessed, letting out a sigh of my own along the way.

"I would be worried if you weren't a mess. You've been through more than anyone should have to endure and you're only twenty five." He assured, "I guess all I'm saying is that, I'm here. I see you, not like the other people. I see you. I want to help you clean up the mess that you say you are. But I need to know that you're willing to do that."

"I don't know. Can you give me some time and a little space to figure it out?" I asked.

Was I willing to clean up the mess? Is it possible to clean up the mess?

"Of course. How about I go home and you call me when you're ready to talk? Yeah?"

"Yeah." Ray moved toward me and I braced myself.

He leaned down and kissed my lips before saying goodbye and leaving.

A sharp banging rocketed me out of my slumber. What the hell is that? I reached under my pillow and grabbed my pistol. The loud banging came again, this time followed by the ring of my doorbell. I checked the clock, 2:47 a.m. Who would be attacking my door at this time of night? I got out of bed and started down the hall, cocking the gun as I went. I looked through the peephole and saw a man standing on my porch. I couldn't make out his face even though the porch light was on. He wore a hood that came down low on his face. I unlocked the door and began to open it, placing the gun at the peephole as I did. Whoever this asshole is has one chance. I get so much as bad vibes and he gets a bullet.

"Can I help you?" I asked, doing nothing to mask the agitation of being awoken from my voice.

"You always have." A familiar voice met my ears.

"Rene?" I questioned in dismay.

"Yeah. Can I come in?" He asked, a shake in his voice, "It's colder than a well diggers ass out here."

"Uh, yeah." I answered stepping aside to let him enter. I'm really glad Ray's not here. Nothing good is about to happen.

I lowered my weapon and shut the door but made no move to uncock the gun or stow it. I'm still not sure what's going on. I haven't seen Rene in two years. The day we buried Oliver to be exact.

"I'm sure you're wondering why I'm here. I don't really know how else to say this other than to say it so here it goes." Rene blurted out taking a deep breath at the end.

I waited for him to speak. I'd heard from an old friend about a year ago that Rene had run into some problems since coming home, the addictive kind. I'm sure he's here to either ask me for something or attempting to make amends for vanishing on me.

"Felicity, I don't think Oliver is dead. And I have proof."


	3. Chapter 3

Ringing, that's all I can hear. I opened my eyes but I can barely see through the smoke and darkness. My eyes trace the smoke back to its origin. Come on, Felicity. She has to be okay. I turned my head to try and see more, maybe the blast threw her like it did me. My air left my lungs abruptly, there they are. Four insurgents were approaching me. I tried to stand and fell back to the ground. I looked down towards my legs and found the problem, sharpnel. I had a piece of metal sticking from leg and from the looks of it, it'd hit an artery. Hand to hand combat was not an option. Training took over and I crawled toward a dead body laying next to me.

Roy. He was just a kid. He'd told me how he had nobody back home and joined up to make something of himself. I knew it was shit. That kid always reminded me too much of myself. He joined for the same reason I did, to fight. I said a silent prayer for him and went back to the mission. Now is no time for emotions. I felt around hoping to find a rifle and all but screamed when I found his back-up pistol. I ejected the magazine from the gun to check to amount of bullets.

Shit! Two bullets. Good for you, kid. He'd taken some of the pricks down with him, just like they'd trained him to. Bad news for me though. Two bullets, four assholes, and a lot of blood-loss.

I remembered one of the poems I'd read after my first deployment, it seemed to fit the moment perfectly.

When you're wounded and left on the Afghanistan's plains,  
And the women come out to cut up what remains,  
Just roll to your rifle and blow out your brains.

"And go to your God like a soldier." I muttered to myself, siding the magazine back into place. I cocked the gun and took a deep breath.

I turned and locked in on my target pulling the trigger I screamed, "GO!".

The others turned hearing the commotion and I found another target locked on and again screamed, "GO!".

By then the other two caught up to me, one of them knocked the now empty gun from my hand and the other hit me in the ribs with his rifle.

I fell to the ground and muttered the rest of the poem to myself, "go like a soldier".

Suddenly the sound of screaming ripped though the air and breath a breath of relief that it's not her. I turned back towards the ruble that had once been our humvee and saw her. But, just as Felicity comes into view she's gone again. It's then that I feel it. The hands. The two assholes left standing were dragging me, pulling me further away from her. I tried to scream but by the time my throat found words it was useless.

"FELICITY!" I screamed, apparently my mouth hadn't caught up with my head, not that I'm surprised.

خاموش" (Silence!)

I went to scream again, knowing it was useless. I'm not stupid. I know what this is, what it means. Our enemies are notorious for taking prisoners. I also know that unlike enemies in the past who had some sense of honor, even if it was a twisted one. But this enemy, they'll tortue you till you talk then kill you or they'll torture you trying to make you talk then kill you in front of your country to make a point. They have no intention of using you a bargaining chip, ironic as it is. They use their religion as a bargaining chip. They break and bend it to serve their own fucked up agenda.

"هغه په ټانک کې ټوټه کړئ." (Toss him in trunk.)

I knew what they were saying. I'd been in this area long enough to pick learn the language farely well. I closed my eyes and tried my best to fight the sleep that was threatening to take me. I knew it was the blood loss. I needed to be awake. I can't listen for clues if I was unconscious. Once I was laying in the back of the trunk it was harder to hear but not impossible.

"هغه وژنه او یا یې وژغورئ…" (Kill him or deliver him to...)

I couldn't make out the name. Take me where? At this point I'm leaning more towards just killing me. Nothing good will come from them taking me anywhere.

The voice died off and the engine started up. They'd made their choice. I'm damned either way. But at least by me taking out the other two, Felicity and anyone else who survived had a better chance of getting away. If I die out here or if I don't, whatever happens to me now; it's worth it. I gave her a chance of survival. If anybody can survive this it's Felicity.

The poem that had given me strength to fight earlier arrived again to deliver me some comfort.

Remember it's ruin to run from a fight:  
so take open order, lie down, and sit tight,  
and wait for supports like a soldier.

Wait…

Wait…

Wait...like a soldier.


	4. Chapter 4

….Felicity….

I want to believe him. God, how I want to believe him. But, this is Rene. If I was smart, I'd make him leave; scream and damn him for bring all this up again. But that'd imply that I ever let it rest.

"Felicity, you heard me, right?" Rene asked, staring at me like he was worried I'd lost my mind.

"Oh, I heard you. I'm just trying to decide how much more I want to hear or if you're just completely full of shit." I confessed. There was no sense in trying to hide the truth with Rene. We'd known each other to long.

"I'd be worried if you weren't, to be honest. I know this is a lot." Rene replied with trepidation in his voice, "And just to get it out there, I'm sober. I haven't drank in over a year now."

"I'm proud of you." I marvelled. Rene's alcoholism had done a lot of damage in his life. I tried to help but at a certain point it was up to him and when that point came he just sort of left.

"So, you've been gone for a year and you come back with this." I quipped with a laugh. It wasn't funny but maybe that's why I laughed.

"I always knew. I knew he was alive, out there somewhere. That's what led to all the drinking, blondie. I couldn't shake the feeling that we -I just left him out there." Rene admitted.

"We did. We buried an empty coffin." I reminded. It always tore at my soul that I couldn't bury him.

"Yeah, because the Navy said his remains were nothing but ash. They lied." Rene informed, I could feel the anger in his words.

"What are talking about?" The Navy wouldn't lie to us. Not about something like this.

"Can we sit? I want to tell you the full story." Rene asked.

I hadn't realized we were still standing by my door. I mean he'd barely said hello before dropping this bomb on me.

"And maybe you could put that gun down?" Rene asked again.

I'd forgotten about that too. "Yeah, living room is that way." I answered pointing to my right.

I lay the gun down on the table by the door before moving to follow Rene to my living room. My head feels like it's swimming. This is all so much to process, but here it goes. Rene is back in town. He's been sober for over a year. So what's he been doing all this time? He says Oliver is alive and he has proof. There are too many questions after that statement. Last but not least the organization and government I gave three years of my life, my blood, my sweat, my heart, my soul, my mind, my everything to lied to me. They told me my love was dead knowing he wasn't. Why? Why would they do that? What could they gain from it?

By the time I reached Rene and sat down across from him there were only more questions swirling around in my head.

"Alright, so I know this is going to be a lot but I need you to let me finish it all once I start." Rene urged.

I nodded my reply. If I open my mouth now then I'll never shut up.

"So, before I got sober I went out for drinks with Dig. We ran into each other by chance in Coast City one evening and he wanted to catch up. I think he knew about my problems and wanted to help. But we got to talking about you and then Oliver. I noticed something in him change as soon as I said Oliver's name. The whole atmosphere shifted. It got thick and heavy. I asked him about it but he wouldn't say anything. He just changed the subject. So, I made my way back to Star City, it took me about a week though. When I got back to my apartment there was an unmarked envelope that'd been slipped under my door. When I opened I found this letter. It was all official and it had an update on it. I can't remember what it said exactly but it was talking about how the mission failed and there wasn't going to be another. At the bottom there was a list of marines that were to be changed from Missing in Action to Killed in Action and Oliver was on it. At the very main bottom in Digs handwriting it said 'burn this'. I did. I knew that he took a huge risk just sending that to me. But it's the thing I needed. I did a lot more digging and pieced together the story as best I could. The Navy knew he'd been taken. They lied to us about it all because they knew the likelihood of bringing Oliver back given the area we were in was next to impossible. They found him though. They tried to rescue him twice and failed in the six months after we came home. They didn't try a third."

I replayed the story Rene had just expelled, like it was a secret he'd been dying to tell someone, in my mind. It all made sense and none of made sense.

"You said you had proof." I asked.

I still needed more. I needed something I could hold in my hands. If what he was saying was true then it was over year since anyone tried to save him. He'd most definitely been moved, if not killed by then. I needed more.

"I do. I got an old friend from my first deployment to do me a favor and he gave me the address of the last known location of the assholes who took Oliver. I went there Felicity. I got Oliver's dad to give me some cash to hire some mercs and I went after him." Rene boasted, his pride coating his words like honey coats a sore throat.

"Wait, Oliver's dad?!" I asked.

"Yeah, I needed money to save Oliver and that was my best chance." He rationalized.

"Rene, you shouldn't have given him false hope like that." I admonished. Mr. Queen didn't handle Oliver's death well. No one did really.

"It wasn't false hope! Just look!" He exclaimed laying his phone down on my coffee table.

The video was definitely taken in the Middle East, either Afghanistan or Iraq. Judging by the markers of the soldiers in the photo I'd say Iraq. The soldiers were ISIL, Islamic State of Iraq and the Levant. But none of that matter when I saw him. In the center of the soldiers stood Oliver. He walked slowly and with a slight limp. His clothes were worn and dirty, much like the rest of him. His hair had grown long along with his beard. He moved as if he were empty, after two years with ISIL it's not hard to understand why. Then he turns his head, almost as if he say the camera and man behind it. I paused waiting for him to act. Best case scenario, he'd see the support he had in escaping and fight. Worst case scenario, he'd alert the soldiers around him and they'd go after Rene. I don't know which I expected him to do. He turned away from the camera as if it wasn't there at all. Then the video stopped. I don't know how many times I watched it but the last time I paused it when Oliver looked at the camera. I needed to see his eyes. I zoomed in on him and felt bile rise in my throat. His once gorgeous blue eyes that were full of life and love were empty.

Just empty.

"Oh my god." I muttered to myself.

Rene was right. We did leave him. I did leave him. They did lie. "How could they do this to him?" I asked myself.

"He's alive. We can make this right. Will you help me make this right?" Rene pled.

"Like you even need to ask." I replied, closing the video. I sent it to myself, of course.

"Felicity, this won't be easy. Blood will be shed. The Navy doesn't want us to know about this. That's one thing I know for sure. If we go hauling ass to Iraq and waging war as civilians there will be repercussions." Rene cautioned.

"Fuck the repercussions. Oliver is alive! I don't care about anything other than getting to him. And fuck what the Navy wants! They should have told us! They should have sent us to rescue him!" I lamented, rage quickly becoming my dominant emotion.

"I agree. I just want you to have all the information before we go all 'A-Team'." Rene reassured.

"What's the first step?" I asked.

"Well, I think we need to talk to Dig. Just you and me, sitting down with our old CO. Private conversation in a secure location. We'll make sure there aren't any bugs or anything. I might just be paranoid but I've been on this mission alone for a year now and after everything I've read, heard and seen I don't know who to trust."

"Why didn't you talk to Dig again?" I assumed he had.

"I tried but my people skills non-existent. Besides, you and Oliver were always his favorites, remember." Rene added with a laugh.

"Fine. I'll start packing." I replied, dryly. Joking and laughing were not something I could even attempt to fake right now.

I made a beeline for my bedroom, grabbed the duffle from under my bed and started packing. I only packed the essentials, this was war. There's no need for anything else. I can't get the image of those eyes out my mind. I had to make it stop. The pain and torment he must have lived through, be living through. It has to stop. I need to find him, bring him home, and bring back my Oliver's eyes.

That's my mission.

A knocking on my door tore me from my thoughts.

Shit, I left my gun by the door. I glanced at the clock which read 5:19 am. I hadn't realized that much time had passed. I guess I watched that video more than I thought.

I made my way to the door, glancing into the living room for Rene as I went. He wasn't there. Odd. Maybe he went to the bathroom.

I turned my attention back to the door. I reached for my gun but it wasn't where I left it.

"What the fuck?" I mumbled out loud to no one.

I looked through the peephole and saw Ray standing on the porch.

What was he doing here?

I unlocked the door and pulled it open.

"Come with me if you want to live." He said, a small smile on his face.

That small smile quickly turned to a look of pure horror.

"Get inside, asshole." Rene said from behind me.

I turned to see Rene standing about four feet back from me, my gun cocked and aimed at Ray's head.

"Jesus fucking Christ, Rene! Put it down!" I exclaimed. No wonder Ray looked scared to death.

When Rene made no effort to lower the weapon, I exclaimed again, "NOW".

He lowered the gun but didn't uncock it. I took it though.

"I'm so sorry, Ray. Come in."

He stepped inside the house and said, "I just meant that the roads are bad and your car is terrible on ice but I know you have to work early this morning."

"I know. That's sweet. Rene is just a bit jumpy."

"What's going on?" Ray asked.

Well…...shit.


	5. Chapter 5

"What's going on?" Ray asked.

Well…..shit. How am I supposed to explain this? Better yet, how do I explain this to him without him thinking I'm crazy? I can't just tell him the truth. The severity of the shit storm Rene just introduced into my life was extreme, to say the least.

"Rene, can you give us a minute here?" I asked turning to Rene, who still held the gun in his hand.

"You gonna be okay?" Rene asked, uncocking the gun.

"Yes but if not I think we both know I could handle myself." I replied with a small smile. My small stature and general nature, I guess, tends to make people forget that I can kick some ass when necessary.

"Right. I'll be in the car then….waiting." Rene acknowledged before handing the gun back to me.

I watched as he left, leaving only Ray and I. Now that we were alone I felt as if the house was huge. It wasn't, of course, it was a small house that my grandparents had left for us and when my mother passed, she left it for me. But standing here with Ray right now, it may as well be a castle. It's odd how people make you feel things like that. When Oliver and I were in this house, back when I first moved in, it felt like home. Now, it felt cold.

So, now I'm standing here like a statue trying to decide which was the better option in handling this conversation with Ray; truth or lie. If I tell him a lie, that Rene and I are going to visit on old friend, then nothing is going to change. This house will still be here when I get back, huge and cold. Ray will be here waiting, the cafe will be here waiting and my daily 'act' will be here waiting. None of those things I want.

On the other hand, if I tell him the truth, anything could happen. The possibilities are endless, some good and some bad. My head says to lie but my gut says truth. In the end, truth wins. I can't shake the thought of what would happen if Rene and I succeed in saving Oliver and I bring him home, here. And when we walk through the door, there stands Ray. What would Oliver think? After all he's been through, he comes home to find that I've been here in our home with someone else. I know him. The thought alone would break his heart. The truth wins.

"Let's talk in the kitchen." I said.

I lead the way to the kitchen table and sat down waiting for him to join me. When he finally sat down across from me, he spoke first, "It's over, isn't it?" He inquired.

"Ray, I'm so sorry. I never meant to hurt you." I replied, feeling a sudden overwhelming shame wash over me.

"I know. Can I ask why? I mean, I'm pretty sure I know but I need to hear you say it."

"I mislead you. I let you think that I had a heart to give away but I don't. I gave it away already and I never got it back. I'm sorry. You deserve to have someone love you but I can't be that someone."

He nodded his understanding before turning to look at the door.

He must have noticed my duffle bag by the door cause when he spoke again he asked, "Where are you going?"

"Rene has a lead on something and needs some backup." I answered. The less he knows the better.

"That sounds ominous." He pressed.

I tried to think of a reply that wouldn't make things worse when the sound of a car horn blared from outside.

"I have to go." I started getting up from the table and walking to where my bag lay.

"Okay. Stay safe." Ray offered before adding a small laugh, "I don't know what's going on but I hope it all works out."

He opened the door but turned back to me and added, "I hope you find your heart again. You deserve to have love too. And I hope you know that if you need someone, I'll be there".

He left and I felt a weight lift from me. I didn't have much time to process it all before another horn blasted through the air.

"Jesus! I'm coming you impatient asshole." I answered to myself.

I picked up my bag and went about locking the house down. Once that was done, I made my way to Rene's car all the while minding the icy spots.

I tossed my bag in the back and turned to face Rene. I waited for some smartass comment about Ray but nothing came.

"What now?" I asked, letting out a heavy sigh.

"Now, we talk to Dig. Then go from there." Rene answered, starting up the car.

"Then let's go."

* * *

"Wake up, sleeping beauty." Rene demanded, reaching across the car to shake my shoulder.

I opened my eyes and took in my surroundings.

"This is where Digg lives?" I inquired.

I took in the house we were parked in front of, it's not what I'd expected. I honestly expected an apartment but this is a home. The kind of home you raise kids in which doesn't make sense to me. Digg isn't even married so why does he need this big house? I told myself that I'm just being paranoid. Digg is a military man who's done well for himself and he can buy a big ass house for himself if he wants too.

"Yep. Freaked me out, too. After everything that we went through, he reconciled with Lyla. They have a kid now." Rene explained.

"What? We've been driving for hours and you never felt the need to tell me that one of our best friends got remarried to the love of his life and they have a baby, what the hell?" I admonished, smacking his arm.

"First of all, ow. And second, you need to stop thinking about Digg like that. You haven't seen him in two years, he didn't exactly stay in touch after what happened and you needed him, and he's known the entire fucking time that Oliver is alive and let you believe he died. I don't think any of that qualifies him as a 'best friend'. He was our commanding officer and for all we know he walked us into that ambush." Rene looked at me as though he was waiting for me to hit him again after his little speech.

"I know that things are different now, Rene. I'm not insane. But all of that is exactly why I want you to stay here." I informed.

"Like hell!"

"Rene, I know how to talk to him. And whether or not you want to remember it, Oliver was John's best friend; commanding officer or not. The three of us were together all the time. He was going to be the best man and Oliver and I's wedding. I just need to remind him of who Oliver was and what we all meant to each other."

"We don't know how deep this all goes, Felicity. We know about 1% of the reality of all this."

"I know. We're not here to get Digg to help us fight for him. We're here for information. We need to know if he knows anything that can help us find Oliver again. I'll be okay. He'll think I'm just here to reminisce with an friend. I have my phone if I'm not back in twenty minutes then call." And with that I got out of the car. I adjusted my clothes and slung my bag over my shoulder. I'm beyond glad that I brought my photo album now, it may come in handy.

I have done my best to not let my emotions come into play, this is a mission. Emotions have no place here but it's getting hard. I can't stop thinking that if Rene had come to me before he went to get Oliver, when he took that video of him, then maybe Oliver would already be home. Why didn't he come to me then?

I shook the thoughts from my mind and prepared myself for whatever was to come after ringing the doorbell. I pressed the button and the sound of melody I didn't recognize met my ears. I heard people talking and then the door opened.

All the words that I had planned on saying vanished. How could I have forgotten about his scar? The memory of seeing his face burning is forever seared into my mind yet I forgot the aftermath.

"Felicity?" Digg asked in disbelief.

"The one and only. Well, not only. I'm sure there are other Felicity's….I mean, yeah. It's me." I babled and he smiled.

"I have to say, you're not who I was expecting to see." He admitted with a small smile.

"I hope it's okay that I just showed up. I should have called but to be honest, I wasn't sure you'd answer." I confessed.

It was true. After Oliver's funeral, we all just went our separate ways. Rene came around some but he was knee deep in his addiction and eventually he went away too. I'd tried to call Digg a couple of times in the first few months but he never answered.

Digg gave a slight nod before speaking again, "Well, come on in. It's colder than hell out there."

I smiled and walked inside adding a "thank you" as he closed the door behind him.

"Is there a reason for this visit or….?" He asked, leaving the question open for me to jump in.

Shit. Lie or truth?

"Actually, I was looking through this photo album at my house yesterday and thought it would be more happy and less sad, if I was with a friend." Lie.

"Well, in that case, follow me." He replied with a smile.

I followed him as he lead me down the hallway and into the dining room. I took in the photos hanging on the wall. Rene was right. Digg and Lyla had reconciled and they now had a little girl.

"I see you and Lyla are back together." I spoke as we entered the room.

"Yeah, after the incident she came to the hospital and we just slowly got more and more connected until one day we just got remarried. And now we have Sara." He replied with a smile, not a small one but a real one.

I miss smiling like that.

"Can I get you anything?" Digg asked.

I was about to say no when I felt my phone in my pocket vibrate. Fucking hell, Rene. It's been like five minutes.

"Got any coffee?" I asked, thinking at least he'd have to leave the room so I can answer this fools call.

"Of course." He responded. He walked out and I immediately answered my phone.

"What the hell?!" I whispered harshly.

"Is he on to you?" Rene asked, anxiety heavy in his voice.

"No. It's fine. I'll call if I need you." I replied harshly.

"Okay….I'm here if you need back up."

It hit me just then that I was taking him for granted. He was here, helping me find my Oliver and willing to run in here, guns blazing if I needed him too. And here I am, yelling at him for it.

"I know and I love you for it." It was then that Digg walked back into the room with two coffee mugs in his hands.

"I gotta go. I see you soon." I said Rene before hanging up.

"Sorry, I got a call from a friend." I apologized as Digg and I took our seats.

"No need to be sorry, Smoak. So, where's this photo album you spoke of?" He inquired before taking a sip of his coffee.

"Right here." I answered, pulling my album from the bag.

"Keep in mind that these are just a few of my favorites." I started with a smile as I opened the book.

I knew what pictures and memories lay inside the album so I turned my attention to Digg's reaction to them. The first few pages contained pictures from our last 'bon voyage' party. There were pictures of Digg, Oliver, Rene, and a few with Roy. We didn't get to know the kid to well before he'd died but we were still hurt by his lose.

"This was our last send off party, right?" Digg asked as his eyes locked in on one photo in particular.

It was one of Oliver and Digg after Oliver had asked Digg to be his best man at our wedding. They were all smiles and making some ridiculous gesture that made no sense but the feeling of brotherhood could be felt through the image.

I watched the emotions dance across Digg's face. He never settled on one. I don't blame him though, I could never settle on one where Oliver was concerned either.

He turned to the next page which held mostly pictures of Oliver. I had picked up this habit of taking pictures of him when I felt myself fall in love with him all over again. It was silly but I feel like it's the perfect examples of Oliver's soul. Corny, I know.

I torn my eyes from the photos of him and turned my attention back to Digg. He'd locked in on one that was my favorite.

"What's this one?" he asked, pointing to it.

"That was what happened when Oliver told me he'd signed up for another tour without me. I'd spent the day doing things just to piss him off." I remembered with a smile.

"He doesn't look very pissed off, Felicity." Digg added with a laugh.

"Well, we'd went out to this bar and I spent the night taking pictures of him. After about thirty pictures he said, 'you take one more picture and I'll have to fight you'." I explained, doing my best to impersonate his voice. I ignored the heartache from realizing it was hard to remember what his voice sounded like.

"Let me guess, you took another picture?" Digg pressed with a knowing smile.

"Of course! He basically challenged me!" I exclaimed with a smile.

The feeling in the room dropped suddenly once the smiles and laughter stopped. It changed.

"How have you been?" Digg asked. I looked up to see him eyeing me cautiously.

"Okay, I guess. I've got a job," I started but suddenly remembered not calling to tell Rose that I wasn't coming to the cafe today, "well, I had a job. A rather shitty one." I said with a small laugh.

"Are you seeing anyone?" He pressed further.

"Yeah….well, not anymore." I felt my emotions bubbling to the surface.

"What happened?"

I looked up at him, "You need to ask?"

I tried to control my emotions but I was failing. Sitting here, with Digg and looking at these pictures of Oliver; it's too much. How can he sit here with me like this knowing that Oliver is out there?

My control shattered.

"Why?" I asked looking him in the eye and a tear betrayed me and rolled down my cheek.

"What?" Digg asked surprised at my sudden emotional state, I'm sure.

"Why did you let me believe he was dead?" I asked, more tears falling.

He stared at me. I could see the journey his mind was going through; truth or lie. I've played it so many times I can see it instantly.

"Rene?" He asked, already knowing the answer.

"Yeah. He went to find him and he did." I informed.

He looked at me and his eyes went wide.

"He did. Are you sure?" He asked, astonished.

I pulled my phone from my pocket and played the same video Rene had given me for him. I watched him react the same Rene had watched me.

"Oh god." His hand went to his mouth, "I'm so sorry."

"I just don't understand. How could you just not say anything? You were there at his funeral and you knew he was still out there!" I exclaimed, as my sadness turned to anger, as it often did.

"I was trying to protect you. If you knew the truth you'd have gone after him and then you'd be dead." He rationalized.

"So, you just let them take him and then leave him there!"

"That's not what happened!" He exclaimed, jumping up from his seat.

"Then tell me what did happen."

"Felicity, I can't." He replied, releasing a sigh.

"You can. I know the Navy had a part in this. I don't care….okay, I care. I just need information. You can help me save him now." I reasoned, handing him the phone that had been paused on the image of Oliver.

"Where should I start?" He asked, taking his seat again.

"From the beginning."

"I wasn't the one to do the investigation of the incident. I should have been but I was in the hospital. The original report showed that Oliver had survived the explosion, he'd been hurt but he survived. He took out two of the insurgents after the explosion but the blood loss must have gotten to him. There were signs of him having been drug through the sand and then they must have put him in a vehicle of some kind cause the blood trail just vanished."

"A few weeks after that, we'd managed to get one of the ISIL pricks that we'd captured to talk and he said they'd changed tactics with their POW's. Instead of just executing the 'useless' ones, they found a man who would buy them. He wanted trained killers that the world believed to be dead. After that, we managed to find one of the places he was holding his prisoners and we went to rescue them."

I let this new information wash over me and run through my mind. Was this better than being a ISIL prisoner of war or worse? They'd sold Oliver?

"We went on two different missions to get our boys back and we lost more than twenty men, Felicity. After that, the government said no more. They'd look for the head of the snake but that was it. And I guess they'd figured that just telling everyone that the marines and soldiers this psycho bought were dead was better than the not knowing of them being missing."

It wasn't.

"I guess that somewhere along the lines, I just accepted that he was dead. Because either Oliver refused whatever this psychopath wanted from him and they killed him or they broke him and he joined whatever agenda he has and he's dead in all the ways that matter. I didn't look for him on my own because I didn't want to know the answer."

"I have to find him. I left him out there once. I won't do it again."

"Felicity, we sent twenty of our best men in there and they all died. You can't take them on."

"It's not just me." I replied.

"Rene."

"John, I want you to help us but I understand if you can't. With Lyla and the baby and your job, I'd understand if you didn't want to go to battle again. But you can't stop me from it."

"No, I guess I can't."

We stood there for a moment. Digg, searching for something in his head and me, trying not to think of the horror Oliver must be living with. After a moment, I started packing my photo album up and putting my jacket on.

"Thank you for the truth. It may be two years too late but it helps." I tried to hide the bitterness in my voice.

I started towards the front door when Digg called out, "Wait!"

He took off into some room, and came out a few minutes later.

"Take these." He said, handing me some files, "And this." He handed me an old flip phone.

"What's all this?"

"These are the mission plans from the compound. I doubt there take Oliver anywhere else but here. We watched them for a while, still are. I'll give you what I can, hence the phone."

"John, I-"

"I know this doesn't erase anything, Felicity. I just can't go on knowing that Oliver is alive and still Oliver, after all this time, and not help."

"Thank you." I said, walking to him and wrapping my arms around him.

"I'm sorry." He apologized again, laying his head on top of mine.

We stayed like that a minute when the doorbell rang. I laughed. Rene.

"That's probably Rene."

I started for the door again.

"Be smart, Sergeant. That's an order." I heard Digg say from behind me.

"Yes, sir." I replied before closing the door.


	6. Chapter 6

There's this weird thing that happens when you've been tortured more times than you can recall. It starts to feel good. It becomes the only thing that lets you know you're alive. It's been well over a year since my country stopped looking for me. No one comes for me. I'm confined to my hell. My days are spent holding on to memories of my love, who most likely perished in the blaze that claimed my unit. I hold her in my mind in a desperate attempt to hold onto my sanity. My nights are spent being beaten, stabbed, shot, strangled, drowned, and any other violent act you can think of. My hell doesn't let you know day and night. It gives you just enough food and water to keep you alive. It took away time and light is a privilege. My hell is a five by five cell. There are no windows and one metal door. I sleep on the cold concrete floor and piss/shit in a hole in the corner of the room. When 'night' comes, so do they. The first few months, I tried to fight them. It quickly realized that it only made them angrier. Now, when they come for me, I think of her. My Felicity. I channel her grace and serenity and wrap it around me like an armor. If she's out there, she needs me alive. I know, wishful thinking, but I can't survive this thinking she's dead. If that's true, what reason do I have to fight it?

I don't know who my captors are or what they want from me. The only thing they ever say is "Are you ready now?", in shitty arabic. The kind of arabic that tells me these people are not from Kandahar. They always ask and I always so no. Ready for what? That's the question that keeps me awake.

Tonight I find myself in, what I call, the 'light room'. It's the only time I ever get real light. Okay, not real light. But when you spend hours in darkness any kind of light is real light.

The sound of the metal door scraping against the cement floor pierced my ears like a dagger causing me to flinch on instinct.

I heard the sound of boots approaching me and braced myself for what was to come.

"Mr. Queen." a voice I'd never heard asked.

I raised my eyes to see a man standing in front of me. He wore all black clothing and had multiple knives on his person. When I looked to where his face should be, I startled at his face. Not that he was disfigured or anything like that, he just didn't hide it.

His skin was tanned and he wore a suit, a nice one. His hair was neatly groomed and his face clean shaven. He looked like a politician or some shit. What was someone like him doing here?

"You're have got to be the toughest son of a bitch I've ever recruited." He commended with a smirk.

I get why he's here now. His smirk says it all. But his eyes tell me he gets off on this; torture and pain.

"I don't recall having a choice." I retorted.

I thought my need to sass assholes had died. If it did, this son of a bitch gave it a new life.

"And that was my fault. I assumed you were like the others. That if I pushed you far enough, cut you just right, that you'd break. The others did and continue to. After a while, I wanted to see _what_ could break you. Then it hit me. You were already broken, long before you arrived here."

Was he right? He couldn't be right.

"Nice theory." I mumbled.

"It's not a theory at all, Mr. Queen. I did my research on you." He began his inevitable monologue. I felt my chest tighten when he pulled my dog tags from his pocket, as though my heart was craving my old life. I tried my best not to react.

"You joined the Navy after your mother died. After basic training you were assigned to a mixed infantry unit in the Marines made up of sergeants. You trained with them and became one of the best damn scout snipers they'd ever seen. You were lucky enough, or unlucky, to fall in love with the woman who was your spotter. You and your unit served two tours in Iraq and when the last one was over you signed up again. It was supposed to be simple missions, like protection and training, so your unit signed up too. I guess they couldn't live with the idea of letting one of their own go to battle alone. Then you get blown up but those ISIL douchebags, take shrapnel to the leg and still manage to fight and kill two of the four of them. Now, here you are. You've spent two years here being tortured in every way imaginable and the whole time thinking that your unit is dead. That your….Felicity was dead."

I looked back up to meet his eyes. They are dead. She is dead. I know it, in my heart I know it. I pretend she isn't in my mind, usually when I'm in the darkness. But if she was alive she would have found me by now.

"She's not dead, Oliver. She's home. So are John Diggle and Rene Ramirez. Roy Harper died in that explosion, as you know but the others….they're home."

He's full of shit. He's just trying to get in you head, I told myself.

"No, you're lying."

"I thought you might say that." He replied with a smile.

He pulled a manila folder from the table in the corner of the room. The table usually held various instruments of torture but not tonight. He spread papers around the table and walked back towards me. I braced myself, out of instinct, I guess. He grabbed the back of the chair I was in and drug it to the table.

"Look." He ordered.

I did. There were various pictures of the three people that meant the most to me in this world. Rene, coming out of bars and walking down the streets of various cities. Diggle, his new military photo after his promotion and photos from his wedding. And then there was Felicity, walking into the Rose Cafe, walking into our home and the one that made me want for him to kill me. Felicity and some guy, that I've decided is a dick, holding hands walking out of a restaurant.

"Not only are they alive but they left you here. They know you're alive and they just….don't care. Why wouldn't you be broken?"

If they're alive, maybe it was them that attacked the compound, I'm assuming it's a compound. But looking at these pictures why would they? Felicity has clearly moved on. John has everything he'd wanted. Is he right?

"So, we're going to skip all this shit and I'm going to say 'fuck the standard protocol'." He announced with a level of excitement I didn't expect. What the hell is the standard protocol and why are we fucking it?

"I don't understand." Honesty was the only option I had cause this asshole is not making any sense.

He pulled out a pocket knife and flipped it open and when he started walking towards me, I braced. Was his way of 'fucking the standard protocol' killing me?

I felt the cold metal against my wrist and took a breath and when the sound of the ties binding my wrist snapping reached my ears and my arms fell to my sides, I released it.

What the hell is he doing? Is this the part where we fight to the death or is he letting me go? It has to the first one.

"You're free to go, Mr Queen." He replied looking me square in the eyes.

"Why?" Again, honesty was my only option, "How do you know I'm not just going to kill you?"

"Because, you're going to need me. And if my instincts are right, it'll be sooner rather than later. Go home. There's no way you'll be able to reenlist after all this. So, when these people that you fought for and spent two years in hell for, reject you; I'll be here."

"They're my family." I replied.

"You're family left you here. Your country left you here. And when you get home, you won't be able to find work, you'll see that your so called family can't love you if there's no war, and you'll miss the fighting, the killing. They'll call you insane, a monster, a killer. All because of the skills you were taught to keep them all safe."

"Why let me go?" I need to know before I make for the exit. It'll haunt me if this is real.

"Because, I could never break you enough to work with me, you've made that clear. But them, they'll break you in a matter of months. You'll see. And when they do, I'll be here. I'll never abandon you. All the things you find that hate, are exactly why are I need you here. I can change this world for the better but I need your help to do it."

My heart clenched in my chest at his word. He's right, no one in this world could break me like Felicity Smoak. The question now is, will she?

"How do I know this isn't just some trap where you shot me as soon as I walk out?" I asked.

"You don't. I'm trusting that you'll come back when the time is right. So, I guess you'll have to trust that I didn't invest two years in you just to shoot you in the back." He reasoned.

I stood there, dumbfounded, and watched while he walked out the door. The door didn't have a chance to close before it opened again and he reappeared. In his hand, he held a duffle bag.

"Take this." He ordered tossing it to the floor in front of me.

I reached down and did as he said. It was heavier than I'd anticipated. I gave him a weary look to which he replied with, "It has some clothes and things you'll need in order to get home, passport and such. You'll also find a burner phone. It can only call out to me, no one else. You'll leave it on at all times and carry it with you."

"If I don't?" I asked.

"Then I'll find you, bring you back here and kill Felicity on my way out the door."

"When you're ready to come back, press the speed dial number one."

It sounded simple enough. My mind is spinning from all this. The new information. The shock of being set free. The fear that it was all a trap. It had to be a trap. But what choice to I have but to play it all out?

"Got it?" He asked.

"I think so."

"Then let me walk you out."

He lead me out the door and down a series of long hallways before we reached a door with a sign that read exit. I stood there staring at the door like I'd forgotten how they work. I'd spent hours, days probably, sitting in total darkness and remembering freedom. Yet, here it was, within my reach and I'm frozen. I remember the idea of freedom but the feeling….I'd lost that long ago.

The sound of metal startled me again as the door was flung open and the bright light of day came flooding in. I wondered if the sound of metal would ever not startle me.

I turned to him before leaving as a important question entered my mind, "What if I don't call? What if they don't break or reject me? What happens if 'fucking standard protocol' fucks you?"

"Then I get fucked. And I lose what would have been my best and most loyal fighter. You're free to go. But remember, I'm watching." He warned before turning and walking back down the hall.

I watched until his form vanished from sight. I pulled my duffel on to my shoulder and turned back towards my freedom and walked through the door.

* * *

I hadn't expected it but this whole time, I'd been in America. Center City to be exact. This whole time I'd been less than 600 miles from home. I'd found a shitty motel that sold rooms by the hour and didn't ask any questions. The thing I wanted to do the most was shower. It'd been so long since I showered. For the past two years, the best I got in the way of showering was a bucket of water and a bar of soap. I missed the feeling of hot water soothing tired muscles.

Now, I find myself in front of a mirror. It's strange. The most I'd seen of myself in years had been a glimpse of a reflection from water. But I never gave it much thought, I guess because those moments were followed by or proceeding a long period of torture. Now, standing here, staring at myself….all I can think is one word; unrecognizable. My once toned muscles have gone soft. My frame is much thinner than it used to be. My body was riddled with scars and fresh wounds. My buzz cut and stubble have grown out into an uncontrollable mess. I look like a castaway or some shit. The one place I dared not look were the eyes. I knew they'd changed too much. If I saw what was reflected back there then I'm damn sure I'd never call Felicity like I'm supposed to.

I walked over to the bed in the shitty motel room I'd rented. I stared at the phone. I knew her number by heart. I should be dialing it but something is stopping me. Would she want to see me? Would she answer? When I tell her it's me, will she hang up? We'll she'll break me before I even make it a whole day of freedom?

There's only one way to find out. I picked up the phone and dialed her number. It rang for what felt like ages until I heard it; her voice.

"Hello?"

I'd forgotten what she sounded like.

"Hello?" She asked again, drawing out the syllables and sounding like home.

Home. She was home. She was safe. I did it. I distracted them and saved her. She's safe. But she won't be if I'm with her.

"Hello!" She called. I could tell she was getting annoyed.

It's now or never. Answer her and let the chips fall where they may or….I don't even know what the other option is.

"Are you gonna talk or are you just gonna sit there with your dick in your mouth?" She inquired and my heart stopped.

This was the beginning of a game we played when Felicity called me out on something, usually to break the ice after a fight.

I couldn't help myself, "I don't make it a habit of putting dicks in my mouth, Felicity." I answered.

"Only on special occasions then?" She answered instantly.

There was a slight pause before I heard her inhale sharply.

"Oliver?" She asked so quietly I thought I might have imagined it.

"It's me."


	7. Chapter 7

Two days. That's how long Oliver's been home. I still can't believe it. A week ago I thought he was dead and now he's home. The whole time that Rene and I were driving to him, I couldn't stop dreaming about having him home. That everything would go back to the way it used to be. Oliver and I against the world. We'd train together, eat together, sleep together. We'd be together again.

Delusional. I was completely fucking delusional.

From the moment I laid eyes on him, I knew. He wasn't the same man I planned to marry. He'd become someone else, something else. But what? That's the question the keeps me awake tonight.

He'd acknowledged Rene and I only when necessary and spoke only when he must. He refused to meet anyone's eyes. He sat in the car, not saying a word, the entire way home.

That was another reason I can't sleep tonight. Oliver refused to come into the house, our home. It was the most he said since we'd reunited. When he'd begun to fight, I caved. I didn't want to by any means but seeing him like that….I just wanted to make it stop. He looked like a caged animal. I couldn't take it. I gave him what he needed to return to his previous stoic state. Rene and I agreed that taking him to his dad's and staying with him was the best option. Lucky for us that his father doesn't live too far away.

But why wouldn't he want to go home. That house was, is, our home. Why wouldn't he want to be there again with me?

I tried to push the questions from my mind as made my way downstairs of the castle Oliver grew up in. Mr. Queen is the CEO of a huge company that he'd built from scratch. I used to think Oliver was exaggerating when he talked about his youth. But it's hard to to think that after seeing this 'house'. The night Oliver told me exactly how wealthy his father was, and him by default everything changed and nothing changed. He was still the same man to me, money was never something I cared too much about; so it didn't make him more attractive to me. But, as he continued to tell me about his upbringing and his family the more I understood him.

He'd never admit it but I'm sure it's why he joined the Marines. His parents always planned on him getting a MBA and taking over the company. They never thought to ask him if he wanted something different for his life. Yet, that was only part of his reasoning. The other part was him running. Before he joined up, he was in a relationship that he didn't want to be in and was to young to know he had a choice in the matter. He was being pressured by both his girlfriend and father to accept roles he didn't want or felt he couldn't meet. After his mother passed away, he couldn't find a reason to stay. So, he joined up and ran away from his girlfriend and father.

"That you, Felicity?" Mr. Queen called as I walked past the kitchen.

I turned back and walked into the kitchen. Mr. Queen sat the small table in the corner drinking a cup of tea.

"Mr. Queen, what are you doing up?" I asked.

"Same reason as you, I suspect."

I nodded my agreement before walking to take a seat beside him.

"How's he doing?" He asked, as if I knew.

"I wish I knew. I can't get him to even look at me, let alone talk to me." I explained.

Oliver and I used to talk constantly. It's one of the things I missed the most, miss the most. Talking to him was as easy as breathing. But not talking to him, feels like I'm choking on my words.

"He's been through one hell of an ordeal. It'll take time for him to remember who he used to be."

Understatement.

"But I think we all need to realize that the Oliver that we have now will never be the one we lost." Mr. Queen reasoned.

"I would be worried if he was, Mr. Queen. I just want to know that he's okay."

"Felicity, it's Robert." He chided for the millionth time since I've known him, "but if he's not telling you he's okay, it's probably because he's not. There's a lot we don't know about all this."

He's right. Of course Oliver's not okay. Why would he be?

"Thanks, Mr. Qu- I mean, Robert." I replied before standing and walking towards to hug him.

"You already knew it, just needed to hear it." He replied after we pulled apart.

"I'm gonna go up and sit with him." I informed before exiting the kitchen and starting the journey to Oliver's room.

I opened the door to Oliver's room and my heart stopped. Where is he? My eyes began to scan the room as my hands reached out for anything that I could use as a weapon. Did they find him? Did he run?

I reached out towards my left and flipped on one of the lights in the room. I hoped by doing this I would find his form anywhere, I found nothing. His room was empty. I ran towards the bathroom hoping maybe he was there. I flung the door open with a loud bang but saw nothing. I startled as I heard a slight wimper come from behind me. Quickly turning towards the origin of the sound, I realized it came from the closet.

I approached it with caution, only stopping to grab a small statue from a nearby table to use as a weapon. I opened the door slowly and sighed with relief as I did.

There laying on the floor of the closet was Oliver. He wore a t-shirt and boxers. His hair was wet which told me he hadn't been there long. I stood there watching him for a moment. The thought that'd I had been careful not to linger on was suddenly blaring at top volume in my mind. What did they do to him?

His once large frame lined with hard won muscles was now lanky and small. He wasn't frail by any means. Whoever his captors were fed him better than most would have. His hair was cut much shorter than it'd been in the video that told me he was alive. And that's just his physical appearance. I haven't even begun to assess the psychological aspects.

"Please. Just leave me alone." Oliver muttered. Was he awake?

"I don't know what you want from me!" He exclaimed suddenly, making me jump back from him.

"I swear, I'm gonna kill you!" He screamed as he began to trash in his sleep.

"Oliver." I called out quietly.

"Felicity, I'm sorry." He whimpered.

Oliver Queen just whimpered. I moved to wake him because if I hear him make that sound again I'm gonna fall apart. I can't fall apart right now.

"Wake up, my love." I encouraged as I reached out to lay my hand on his shoulder.

That's all it took. His eyes popped open and before I could utter another word, he reached up grabbing my wrist and flipped me over until I lay next to him on the floor. His other hand wasted no time in finding its way to my throat. I looked up into his eyes and saw nothing but a man doing his best to stay alive. He clearly wasn't aware of his surroundings.

"Let her go!" Rene called out.

Oliver snapped back to reality and instantly let go of me. He began to shuffle his way back away from me. His eyes now showing the emotion he hid from me earlier.

Self-hate. Fear. Pain. Uncertainty.

"It's okay, Rene." I assured.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." Oliver began repeating over and over, lowly.

"It's okay, my love. I shouldn't have touched you. I'm okay." I tried to reassure as I slowly began to crawl towards him. He only backed further away.

I stopped.

I turned back toward Rene and motioned for him to leave. He gave me a look that said, 'fine but i'm not going far'.

"Hey." I called out to Oliver.

When his eyes met mine I felt my heart begin to break and swell all at once.

"It's just you and me. Whatever you need from me right now, I'll give you. No questions asked, my love." I encouraged.

I couldn't stop myself from hoping he'd talk to me.

"I can't." He admitted, the uncertainty flashing through his eyes again.

Was he uncertain of me?

"Why?"

"You'll go away. You always do. When the light comes."

What the hell does that mean?

"Honey, I promise you, I'm not leaving you. Ever." I guaranteed.

He stared at me as if he was trying to decide if I was lying to him. Why doesn't he trust me?

"I have an idea." I stated as I stood from my position on the floor. I ignored the small flinch from Oliver cause by my sudden movement, along with the pain that surged through my body from the small altercation earlier.

When I reached the light switches by the door I flipped them all on.

"Now, the light is here and I'm still here." I have no idea what I'm talking about right now but it's worth a chance.

I watched Oliver's face begin to change. His face began to change as if he was just now realizing that I was real.

"Felicity." He stated quietly.


	8. Chapter 8

This is real. This can't be real. It's not the first time I've seen her like this. Granted, we were usually in our house not my dad's but still.

"I have an idea." I watched her with cautious eyes as she stood up from the floor.

Guilt surged through me as she winced from our...encounter, earlier. It didn't matter if I questioned if she was real, any of this was real. I will always feel guilty for hurting her in any form.

I shut my eyes as pain ripped through them. It was a familiar pain. The kind you get when you go from utter darkness to bright light.

"Now, the light is here and I'm still here." She spoke with both conviction and confusion in her voice.

She didn't understand what she was saying but she knew she needed me to believe it. And I want to. God, I _want_ to. But every time I have in the past it was ripped away before I could _feel_ her presences. But this feels different.

Do I dare do this to myself for the millionth time? Every time I get to this point, she disappears and I'm left to remember that she died. That I let her die. _But this time feels different_.

"Felicity."

She started walking towards me and I waited for her to fade away like she had so many times before.

She didn't. I let myself actually look at her as she approached slowly. She looks different. Her hair is shorter than I remember. Her frame was much smaller than I remember as well. But it was her eyes that tore at the vacant place in my chest. They looked battle-worn in a way they weren't before. We had fought together and killed together. That had taken its toll on both of us. But her eyes were reflecting a much strenuous battle, an emotional war. These aren't the same eyes that'd haunted me in the darkness for years.

"Oliver, I can't even begin to imagine what've you been through. And I'm not here to force you to talk about it. I just want to be here with you." Felicity explained, her voice sent waves of serenity crashing over me.

By now, she was standing in front of me. Blue eyes boring into blue eyes. I felt her searching my eyes and soul for something. What, I don't know. But she must have found it because she raised her small hand, the one that used to hold her engagement ring, and placed it on the side of my face in reassurance.

"I'm here." She whispered.

I closed my eyes and leaned into her. The feeling of her touch was like coming home. It had always been that way. The whirlwind of emotions is sparked in me is more than I can sort. It'd brought with it an avalanche of memories that I shoved away during the two years I'd been captured.

I opened my eyes to see her still watching me. Then simultaneously two things happened that took it away. I saw a flicker of fear and regret flash in her eyes and I remembered something my captor said. _**Not only are they alive but they left you here. They know you're alive and they just….don't care.**_ I saw the image he'd shown me of Felicity and her boyfriend, Dick. She may be here but she'd rather be there and it was only a matter of time before she'd leave. She'd go home to _him_.

I stepped back from her spoke, "You should go."

She looked taken aback by my words but held her position.

"No. I shouldn't." She replied.

"I'm sure you need to get home to your boyfriend." I challenged.

She went to speak but stopped herself. After taking a moment to collect her thoughts she asked, "How'd you know about him?"

"Really? That's the best you could come up with?" I asked.

I could feel it happening. The thing that would happen when I'd spent hours in the lightroom. It's like I'd split in two. In this state, I didn't feel the pain anymore. It's like the physical part of me and the others would detach.

"Yes. Don't answer my question with a question."

"It's not important. I know."

"Oliver, I -"

"You can leave. You've fulfilled your obligation. I'm home. So, go."

Why is this happening now? It's almost like the opposite of what typically happens. My physical self is slipping from my emotional self.

"I'm not leaving you."

"Why not? It wouldn't be the first time." I accused.

It's done.

"What is that supposed to mean?" She demanded.

"You know what it means." I retorted.

Am I being an asshole right now? Yes. I can't make it stop. It's like my mind is spinning with all these thoughts, emotions and memories and it won't stop.

"I thought you were **dead**. They told me you were **dead.** I buried you. I grieved you." She shot back as she began to pace.

"Bullshit."

"What?!"

"Bullshit! How long was I 'dead' before you started fucking that asshole."

"Oliver Jonas! You do **not** talk to me that way! What the fuck is wrong with you?!" She exploded walking towards me.

"I don't know, Felicity. What could possibly be wrong with me? Other than the fact that two years ago I was captured trying to give my unit a fighting chance at survival only to find out you were all killed in that goddamn explosion. Spent two fucking years being tortured in every way imaginable. Until three days ago when the sadistic asshole who was holding me prisoner released me. He showed me pictures of all of you happy and alive. You **all** knew I was alive and **none** of you bother to find me! You left me there!"

It was all coming out and I couldn't stop it. I feel like I'm out of body watching this all take place.

I ripped my shirt over my head and yelled, "You let this happen. Why should I want you to be here? Why should I want to go home?"

I heard her intake of breath and the door swung open with a thud. I turned to the sound and saw Rene standing just inside the room, his pistol aimed at my heart. Behind him was my father, worry engraved on his face.

"Son." My father spoke as if he was heartbroken and scared at once.

I felt whole again as if I could finally see and control what I was doing and saying. I looked towards where Felicity had been and saw her standing there with horror in her eyes.

Was she scared of me? Of course, she was. I felt the words I'd yelled at her moment ago hit me with a crushing weight.

I turned back to my dad, his expression hadn't changed and Rene's gun was still aimed at me. I wish I could pull the trigger for him.

"I...I'm sorry," I said. I moved and everyone reacted. It was as if they didn't know what I was going to do but they all expected it to be bad.

I kept moving though. I walked towards Rene, Dad and my exit.

I have to get out of here.

"Oliver!" Felicity called out when I was out of the room and I began to run.


	9. Chapter 9

When we found Oliver he was standing off in the back garden. That's where his mother is buried and also where we put his headstone. We didn't have his body to bury but making his final resting place next to hers was the only choice that made sense. Now it seems like a mistake; watching him stand there, so still,l is chilling. Especially considering he has no shirt on and it's not the dead of winter. He must be used to the cold.

I moved to walk to him but a strong hand on my shoulder stopped me. I turned to see Robert standing just behind me.

When he spoke, his voice was low and heavy, "Let's give him so time."

I nodded in agreement. Maybe some time we'll do us all some good. So much has happened in the past few days; it's too much to process. If it's too much for me to process, I can't even begin to imagine how much it is for Oliver to process.

It's with that thought that breaks through the damn I'd built around my emotions.

I left him there.

He knows it.

He hates me for it.

I hate me for it.

I sat down in the on the bench by some flowers and just watched him while my emotions swirled around inside. I can't settle on one emotion; besides empty. Is empty an emotion?

I don't know what to do or say. I don't know how to make this right? I thought I did. Finding Oliver and saving him was my way of fixing this but I never thought beyond it. I tried to give him some time and it drove me crazy. I tried talking to him but it snapped something in him. How do I move forward now without hurting one of us?

Oliver moved in the distance and I braced myself. I thought he was going to run again. He didn't. He lowered himself to the ground until he was sitting.

He doesn't move like he used to. He used to move with a precision I'd never seen in anybody. He was always so sure of his movements. Now, he moves as if he's waiting for something to stop him; as if every movement will result in a punishment.

"What did they do to him?" I asked to the air around me.

"I don't know, sweetheart." Robert spoke lowly.

I didn't even know he was still here. I guess he couldn't bear not, at least, seeing Oliver anymore than I could.

"What do I do, Robert? Everything is just so...unsteady." I confessed.

"Let's be honest, it's always been that way with you two." He reminded as he sat down next to me.

"Yeah. But it's different this time. Our world was unsteady but we were always solid and Oliver was always my rock."

"Now he needs you to be his rock. We'll get him through this."

Robert and I fell into a comfortable silence as we sat there watching the most important person to both us. When the sun began to rise, I couldn't sit there anymore.

"I'm gonna go talk to him." I stated as I stood.

"Be easy." Robert pled from beside me, "I'll be here. Just in case."

I nodded and started walking towards the love of my life. My legs felt heavier the closer I got. I have no idea what to say.

When I reached him, I sat down next to him. He didn't flinch or react at all, just stayed there still like he had been for at least an hour now.

"It's weird, sitting here with you. I spent a lot of time sitting here wishing you were sitting next to me."

I waited for him to speak but got nothing. So I started again.

"Oliver, I'm so sorry. I need you to know that I looked for you, after the explosion. Rene and I checked everybody and when we didn't find you, we didn't know what to do. At first, the Navy told us that you were M.I.A but that only lasted a few weeks. It was John that told me. I didn't question it. I should have. I never felt right about you being 'dead' but not feeling right felt right, ya know?"

I stopped my rant and looked up toward Oliver. I was surprised to find him staring at me. He didn't say anything so I started talking again. It's working...I think.

"We buried an empty coffin here. I figured this was the best place for you, not some military graveyard, home; with her." I said motioning towards his mother's grave.

"Anyway, after a while the world moved on. It had been over a year and I still felt your absence every day, I still feel it. But, everyone around me was saying that I needed to move on. After a while, I gave in. That's when I met Ray. I still don't know how you knew about him but I guess it's not important. I ended it with him when I found out you were still alive, but it was over long before that. It never really started really. The day before Rene told me you were still alive Ray told me that it was hard loving someone who loves a ghost."

"He told me." Oliver spoke.

It took me a minute to break through the shock of hearing his voice to process what he said.

"Who told you?"

"The man who took me. He showed me pictures of all of you. He told me that you all knew I was alive...you just didn't care." He was looking at his headstone again, his voice full of uncertainty.

"He lied. I didn't know you were alive. Your dad, Rene and I, we thought you were gone."

"John?"

"I think you need to talk to him about that."

He sighed.

"I can't imagine how you must be feeling right now. But I want you to know that none of us expects you to know. Hell, none of us knows how we feel. I'm so relieved to have you here again. To know that you're safe, that you won't be hungry or cold, that if you need me I'll be here. I need you to know that. I'm not going away, ever. We'll face all of this the same way we've faced everything else, together. I'm never leaving you."

"I'm sorry...about earlier. I lost myself. That's no excuse but it's true. I didn't mean any of it. I just - I don't know."

"I know the feeling."

We sat there for a few minutes in silence. I only broke it when I saw Oliver shiver a little.

"Hey, why don't we go inside? We can go hide in your room and get Rasia to make us some waffles and we'll just watch TV."

Maybe this will help both of us. Some time to just be us and not think about what we're supposed to feel.


	10. Chapter 10

A sharp knock on the door pulled me from my slumber. I glanced over at the bedside clock which read 4:06 am.

Who the hell could this be? Whoever it is better have a damn good reason for risking waking Oliver. Everyone in this house knows that the past week has been hard. Oliver is still adjusting to his new found freedom and the rest of us are still adjusting to his resurrection.

Oliver. He's adjusting slowly but well. He's stopped flinching every time someone turns on a light or raises their hand. But he still doesn't talk much and when he does it's never about his time with 'him'.

We still don't know who the 'him' Oliver referred to is. Rene has been doing some research but he hasn't found any new information. There is a wealth of information inside Oliver's head, it's just gonna take time for him to let it out.

The sharp knocking that woke me from my sleep resonates throughout the room once more. This time I react.

I spring out of bed and head towards the door, careful not to wake Oliver from his resting spot on the couch.

I wish he'd sleep in bed with me.

The knocking ripped through the silence of the room once more, this time much louder than before.

"What?" I questioned in a whisper, after ripping open the door.

"Wow. Why so hostile, blondie?" Rene asked, sounding half amused.

"3 o'clock in the fucking morning. Sleeping Man who has been through hell. A door and your fucking fist." I seethed.

Why am I seething at Rene?

"Felicity, I tried to be quite and then you didn't answer. I was getting ready to kick the door in. Queen isn't exactly stable. He tried to kill you like what, two days ago?"

"Rene..."

"I know. He apologized and he's been through so much but it still happened."

He's right.

"Did you come here in the middle of the night for a reason?" I asked, much softer than before.

"Yeah, just wanted to give you the heads up that Diggle called. He's on his way, should be here by five."

"AM?"

"Yep. You might want to wake him up and prepare yourselves." Rene advised.

"Why do we need to prepare ourselves?" I inquired. It's just John.

"He's not coming as a friend. They know he's alive and they're sending John to get answers."

How do they know he's alive? We came straight here and haven't left since we arrived. They can't know.

Oliver is in no shape to be interrogated right now. All of this will just push back to where we were when we first met again. He's not come far but he's progressed some and I can't let them take that from him.

"Rene, we have can't let them get to him."

"I know. Hence the hullabaloo. We're going to get him out of here." Rene stated, stepping into the room and turning the light on.

Oliver groaned in his sleep and began to stir. Rene wasted no time, as he began to move around the room packing an overnight bag for Oliver.

"What do you mean, get him out of here? He won't go anywhere else?" I challenged.

The memory of trying to get Oliver to come into our home, our first night together, begins to play in my head. The look in his eyes was so haunted like he knew if he walked through the door he'd find hell on the other side. Why is our home hell for him?

"I'm sure if it's between leaving here or getting grilled by the United States fucking Government about the hell he endured for the past two years, Oliver will fucking skip out of here."

"I don't skip." Oliver grumbled.

-

It wasn't easy but I convinced Rene and Mr. Queen to stay behind and handle John. It required promising them that I'd taser Oliver and tie him up until they got to me, should something go wrong. But nothing is going to go wrong. Oliver knows that I'm real now. He'd never hurt me.

"Where are we going?" Oliver asked nervously from the passenger seat.

"Home." I answered, meekly.

We drove the rest of the way in silence. Nothing but the rain on the roof of the car to keep me from going mad. Oliver's nervous, I can feel the tension radiating off of him. When we pull into the driveway in front of the house, Oliver finally speaks.

"I can't."

I shut the engine to the car off and turn to face him. His posture matches the mood in the car, tense. His eyes are darting all around and his hand appears to be clenching something inside his pocket, what I don't know.

"Can't do what, honey?" I ask.

"I can't go in there." He replies, letting out a shaky breath and closing his eyes.

"Why?" I inquire, keeping my tone as calm as possible. I don't want him to think I'm interrogating him.

"I can't tell you." He admits, turning to look out through the rain and out the window.

He's hiding his expression from me. This is not new behavior. In fact, I think this is the closest I've been to the Oliver I lost since we reunited. He does this on purpose, I can read him and he knows it.

"Bullshit, Oliver. You can tell me you just don't want to." I confronted.

"No, Felicity. I can't! If I say it then it's real."

"It's already real." I contested.

We sat there for a few more moments taking in the sound of the rain and the thunder off in the distance. The clock on the dash lights up the car with a subtle glow; it's 5:15 am.

I want to go sleep in my bed, in my house with my Oliver.

"Say it." I implore of him.

"I'll have to go back there." He whispered lowly.

"What?"

"He knows so much, Felicity. He sees me. If I go back in there and try to be the man I was..." He trails off as he tries to gain some composure.

"Who said you had to try to be anyone? I don't want the Oliver you were when we first met. I don't want any version of who you've been, I only want you." I reasoned.

"You don't understand. The man you fell in love with, he's not real."

"What are you talking about?" I inquired, reaching over to take hold of his hand. Electricity shoots through me when my skin meets his.

"He helped me understand something about myself. I kept re-enlisting even after we decided the last tour was it. I signed on for another tour. I never understood why I did that. But I know now. It's because I couldn't survive without the violence. I needed it. All the things about me that you fell in love with when we came home; they aren't real."

I wish he'd look at me.

"Oliver." I called, waiting for him to meet my eyes before speaking.

When he did I could see the pain reflected in them. How could he think this?

"The man I fell in love with is kind, loyal, selfless and loving jarhead. I know you better than you think I do. I agreed to marry you once, remember? I know you. The good, the bad and the ugly."

"You don't know how to love me without a war," his words hit me like a ton of bricks, "that's what he said to me before he let me go."

"What does he know of us or how I love you?" I implored.

"More than you'd think."

What can I do or say here? I'm so tired. Do I sit here in this cold car debating who knows Oliver better, me or a psychopath? Or do I make a stand and try to get him inside?

Fuck it.

"Oliver, I'm going inside. I'm tired and it's cold. I don't know what else I can say to make you believe that I know you and that I love you; always."

I let go of his hand and opened the door to the car, letting in a wave of even colder air.

"It breaks my heart how little you believe in me; in us." I confess before stepping out into the cold, wet world around us.

I reach the front door when I hear the car door close. I turn to see Oliver approaching the house, his tense look is back.

"Like you said, it's already real."

I reach up to place my hand on his face, praying he doesn't flinch or pull away, I'm ecstatic to find he does neither. Instead, a slight smile appears on his face as he leans into my touch.

"Felicity?" I familiar voice ask, taking me by surprise and causing me to pull my pistol from its holster on my hip. I quickly turn and aim my weapon at the target. Call me paranoid but after the past week I'm not taking in chance.

"Ray."


End file.
